Cunning Skein of a Tangled Web
by Winnett
Summary: Girl wants boy.  Boy wants boy.  Girl and Boy fight over boy.  This might seem like a typical teen love story, until you find out that 'boy' is none other than Blaise Zabini, and never has a Slytherin sat idly by while his ass was on the line.  HerRonBla


**Title:** Cunning Skein of a Tangled Web  
**Author:** winnett  
**Pairing:** Hermione/Ron/Blaise  
**Kink/Prompt:** Stripping/Along Came A Spider  
**Rating:** R  
**Warnings:** none  
**Summary:** Girl wants boy. Boy wants boy. Girl and Boy fight over boy. This might seem like a typical teen love story, until you find out that 'boy' is none other than Blaise Zabini, and never has a Slytherin sat idly by while his ass was on the line.  
**Author's Notes and Disclaimer:** Harry Potter is the creation of J.K. Rowling and this story has not been written to gain any profit and I do not claim ownership of the Harry Potter world. I love them. I like to pet them and get them naked. Thank you for lending them to me. I promise to return them clean and shiny.

Also, the first person POV sections are Ron and Hermione talking... however I can't format it very clearly, so I hope it isn't too comfusing. Hopefully you can follow those sections.

Thanks so much to my lovely, lovely betas!!! K, KL, BTS, and KF.

* * *

I have always had an engaging mind. I wanted to learn and experience, to try new things. I thirsted for new information, for secrets and mysteries. A mystery provided a challenge. I always looked for new ways to break up the tedium, avoiding boredom like harfoot rot. 

Everyone expected Ron and I to fall in love, raise red-headed babies and live happily ever after. Where did this fairytale come from? Ron? And _I_?! What Drano-laced crack were they smoking? Ron and I have always been friends, and yes, we did have our moment, our romance… but Ron? He was as challenging as a Chinese finger trap; a fun tussle for a while but once solved, not very stimulating. I will always love Ron and be there to watch his back, but Ron and I? Come on people.

Plus, Ron realized he preferred people of the masculine persuasion in his bed far more than people with tits and curves.

Heh, who would have guessed it?

So…

What's that supposed to mean?

This is my story, Ron. Stay out.

No, No, No. I told you I wouldn't let you skew the story to fit your whim, woman. So, let me speak!

_**chuckle** _Fine. Tell them all how you first realized hot-blooded, well-hung men were more your style. Explain away. Don't forget the details.

But, we're not talking about that here. We're here to talk about _him_.

Yeah, well… Shouldn't we give some background about us first? That way, the story will make much more sense.

I don't necessarily think that is… necessary.

Ron, you know you liked it.

You know _you_ liked it.

I never said I didn't.

_**whimper** _Don't smirk at me like that, Hermione. It makes me nervous.

_**laugh** _Oh Ron. Let's just tell them that your first experience with a _man_ wasn't necessarily with a man and move on from there. We don't really have to explain how much fun Polyjuice really can be, now do we?

You're twisted. You'll do anything once.

But you liked it.

_**groan** _Fine. I did. But it isn't just the equipment, Hermione, it's the attitude, the way a bloke carries himself. You had the equipment with the potion, but you were still so abhorrently female.

Abhorrently! Wha…?

Oh, Hermione, don't take it personally. Let's move on. You're beautiful and I love you. Okay? We had our fun, played our gender games… old news. The fact that you're a gay man in a woman's body is a story for another time. Let's talk about him. I can tell you the first time I realized just how amazing he was. His dark skin, his dark eyes, that whole dark, dangerous thing he sported so easily…

My story, Ron.

I remember the first time I saw him without a shirt…

* * *

… she felt a distinctive stirring between her legs. Not the general wetness she got when reading some amazing smut or having Ron nip at the back of her neck as he leaned over her from behind. No, this was something more. This was _desire_; a need, a want, a must have. 

She hadn't really noticed him before. They'd worked together in the library for their Potions, Arthimancy and Ancient Runes homework, and she'd learned to appreciate his intelligence and good humor, but it wasn't until late that spring when she saw him surrounded by a handful of other seventh year boys swimming in the lake that she'd realized just how ripped he was. How utterly gorgeous. Sure, his mother was a gold-robbing bombshell, winning husbands with her looks, and perhaps that should have triggered some awareness of his beauty, but Hermione hadn't really taken notice before because there was just so much work to do.

Earlier that year, they had found the Horcruxes and Harry had defeated Voldemort. Afterward, everything changed. Harry and Ginny were inseparable as the year finished and they all focused on their N.E.W.T.s. Lines between houses were blurred, and what side someone was on in the war redefined people's perceptions of each other. Without the threat of world domination hovering over her head, she now had more time for life's pleasures.

And now she had time to notice.

Turning on a dime, she removed herself from his presence and retired to the Head Girl's room where she indulged in a long, slow fingering, imagining that muscled chest, hairless and gleaming from the sunlight illuminating his wet body. Those slanted eyes, always dancing with amusement. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her close as he nipped along her neck. His cock pressed up against her stomach, urging, enticing…

With a scream she came, her body wracking with pleasure as images of him danced in her fuzzy mind. She hadn't come like that in a very long time.

Boneless and drained, she lay there and began to formulate a plan to win over Blaise Zabini.

* * *

So, that's what did it for you, huh? 

Yep.

Just a bare chest. You fell for a guy just after one tiny, itsy, bitsy glimpse of his chest.

Well, it is a very nice chest.

Oh, Hermione, don't get me wrong; I agree about the chest. But you were always so… frigid before.

Frigid?!

And now you swoon from just one glimpse. I find it hard to believe.

_**chuckle** _Ron, you have a very nice chest, too.

Really? Well, yes. Of course I do.

* * *

She knew that Blaise liked her… well, maybe tolerated her. As a friend. Study buddy? She sighed. 

Completely inexperienced at how to win someone over, she turned to her favorite standby—books. Unfortunately, reliable reference volumes can't be found on seduction, and all of the romance novels she'd reviewed were just so far fetched. Realistically, she _could_ set up a situation where he was in mortal peril and she would swoop in and save him… but she didn't really want to start their relationship on hollow adrenaline. Plus, she knew she wasn't any good on a broom.

She had to get him to notice her. She needed to devise a plan.

Quickly, she began to jot down a few ideas, ploys that she'd seen Lavender Brown, the Patil twins and other girls enact that rendered silly men into puddles of malleable putty. Blaise Zabini was as good as hers.

* * *

Plan #1 – The Quill 

Thursday morning's rain did nothing to dampen Hermione's spirits as she took particular attention to her appearance that morning.

"Hermione, are you wearing make-up?" asked Lavender as they got ready that morning.

"Yes… why, do you think it's too much?" Hermione asked, concerned.

Lavender gripped Hermione by the shoulders and turned her around to get a better look at her face. "No, it isn't too much," she said after a moment's scrutiny. "But people will notice 'cause you never wear any. Here," Lavender got out a brush and started dusting Hermione's face with it. Pale powder poofed out. "This will make it all a little more subtle."

When Lavender was finished, Hermione examined herself in the mirror and smiled. She looked wonderful. "Thank you," Hermione said and the two girls walked down to the common room together.

"Wow, Hermione," Ron said as she approached him. "You look great!"

Harry gawked, but after a sharp jab in the ribs from Ginny he nodded in agreement. "Yeah, you look good."

Pleased, Hermione thanked them. "We'd better go, or we'll be late for Transfiguration."

Today, Hermione sat across the aisle from Blaise and his partner. Ron sat next to her on her left, leaving Harry watching them with his patented look of confusion.

"Ron, go sit with Harry," she whispered harshly.

"Ah, no… he wanted to work with Dean today."

Hermione looked up and saw Harry sitting with a Ravenclaw. Dean was sitting next to Padma. She turned back to Ron and cocked an eyebrow. Unfortunately, he wasn't even looking at her, but at someone over her shoulder, smiling that goofy smile that he used to smile at her.

She darted her head over to see who Ron was googling over and almost jumped out of her seat when she saw Blaise Zabini openly staring their way, a quirk to his lip painting a very pretty Slytherin picture. Hermione smiled back. He'd noticed her!

Quickly, she pulled out her books and laid them across her desk. Professor McGonagall began lecturing them on something she'd already mastered during the war, so she let her mind focus on her more important task at hand: Blaise.

She removed her quill from her bag, a new quill with no ink in it, and began blowing at the feather, fluffing it, noticing the way the feather curled in. In an almost shy gesture, she trailed the feather along the line of her chin, brushing it all the way from one ear to the other, then slowly drawing it down to tickle the hollow at the base of throat, letting it rest at the juncture of her collar bones. Goosebumps flared along her arms and she shivered.

Closing her eyes, she did it again, tilting her head back and letting her lips part just slightly. In her mind she imagined it was Blaise trailing the feather along her cheeks, dancing it across her smooth skin. She lost herself in the sensation until she heard a sharp throat clearing next to her ear.

"Miss Granger, do you find this lesson tedious?" asked Professor McGonagall.

Hermione dropped the quill and sat up straight. "No, ma'am," she said.

"Well pay attention, please," McGonagall scolded.

Hermione nodded and turned her eyes to the unopened book on her desk. Surreptitiously, she peeked over at Blaise, whose head was tilted her way, just slightly, but enough that she caught his eye.

Oh yes. He'd noticed her. With triumph, she returned to her reading, still dancing the feather along her skin, though this time she kept her eyes open and paid attention to McGonagall.

Until a sound to her left distracted her. She shifted her body and looked over at Ron. Her jaw dropped as she watched Ron _sucking_ on his quill. He was practically laving it with his tongue, a smear of ink along his lips, his cheeks sunken in. Quickly, she looked over at Blaise and saw that he was watching Ron as well, his eyes darting between Ron and herself, a calculating look settling in those feline eyes.

With a swift kick, she knocked Ron out of his indecent display.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she asked in a hurried whisper.

"What?" he asked, ink still painting his lip blue.

She rolled her eyes at him with a huff, and returned her attention to the front of the class. What was he playing at?

* * *

Plan #2 – Help with Homework 

She'd definitely gotten his attention when it came to the Quill Plan. Now, she just had to make sure she kept his attention, found ways to interact with him more so he would realize just what an amazingly fun and witty person she really was.

She had to actually talk to him.

But there was the conundrum. She needed a _reason_ to talk to him. She had to be smooth, had to trick him into liking her. So she did the only think she could think of; she cornered him in the library.

He sat in a stream of light that shined through one of the high, thin windows. His head was bent down as he scribbled something on a parchment. His skin practically glowed in the light and his high cheekbones made him look like an Egyptian pharaoh.

Her heart clenched in her chest.

With a deep breath, she walked up to him and cleared her throat. He looked up from his parchment and raised his eyebrows.

"Hello, Bla… Zabini. I was hoping you could help me with our latest Arithmancy project." She was proud that her voice only sounded _a little_ nervous. She offered him a smile.

"You want me to help you?" he asked incredulously.

Hermione swallowed but nodded in reply. Why was it that she could help Harry face down Lord Voldemort, but this beautiful man scared the living daylights out of her? "Please?" she added for good measure.

"Um, okay. What were you caught on?" he asked.

Hermione had this all worked out. Admittedly, she was the one who usually helped him, but maybe if she let him help her, he would feel less intimidated by her intellect. She immediately began explaining their entire project all wrong. She hated that she was making herself sound like an idiot, and couldn't wait until he accepted her undying love so that she could drop this tiring façade. She even added a stupid giggle, trying to mimic something she'd once heard Lavender use on Ron, when she finished.

Blaise looked confused.

"How could you have any of that wrong, Hermione? You got perfect scores all through class and we've already gone over some of that. You explained it to me last month. Have you been cursed?" he asked, sounding concerned.

"Um, no," she said. She'd obviously planned the wrong strategy this time. "I just…"

"Oi, Hermione. How's it going?"

Hermione turned around and saw Ron approaching her and Blaise. He sat down at the table—right next to her dark Adonis.

"Ron? What are you doing?"

"Oh, Zabini's helping me out with our latest Charms lesson. Having a bit of trouble with illusion charms." He smiled at her and she noticed a very wicked little glint in his eye. Oh Merlin. He was after Blaise, too! That bastard! Apparently, their little experiment hadn't just been an experiment.

"Ah, well, don't let me disturb you. I'm sure I can finish my Arithmancy just fine." Annoyed, she turned in a swirl of robes and stalked out of the library. Damn Ron.

* * *

Plan #3 – Shared Interests 

"Harry?" Hermione ran after Harry down the hall, calling out his name. "Wait a second."

Harry stopped, his arm wrapped around Ginny's waist and waited for her to catch up. "What's up Hermione?"

"Can I borrow your broom?"

"Harry's Firebolt? What for?" Ginny asked, interested.

"Well, since we're almost done with our last year of school, I just wanted a bit of flying practice, to improve my skills. What better place than the Hogwarts grounds? It isn't like we can go flying over the city of London."

"Well, actually, with the proper charms…" Harry began.

"Please, Harry?" she interrupted him.

"Sure, it's in my room. You're welcome to go grab it," Harry said.

"Great! Thanks." She ran down the hall and up the stairs to the tower. It didn't take her long to retrieve the broom and soon she was out on the Quidditch pitch.

She'd studied Blaise for the past few weeks and knew that every Saturday morning he was out here on the pitch. He'd never been on the Quidditch team, but he seemed to enjoy flying, and man did he look amazing on a broom, all windswept and free, like a falcon in the wind.

"Up," she commanded and the broom lifted to her hand. Throwing one leg over the boom she mounted and kicked off. The broom wobbled as she lifted into the sky. Flying wasn't one of her favorite hobbies and she preferred to watch those with true skill rather than attempt it herself, but today she would try. She needed more flying experience so she had something to talk about with Blaise.

With long slow circles around the pitch, she soon got a better grip on how to maneuver the fine broom. Her eyes constantly returned to the ground so terribly far below her, but she would do this, had to do this for him. She'd performed a few swoops and sharp turns before she saw a few figures coming down from the castle.

Assuming it was Blaise, Hermione began trying out some things she'd seen Harry do. She dove to the ground and then she did a loop-de-loop. Her palms were getting sweaty as she did increasingly scary moves and with a disastrous miscalculation, she completely lost her grip on the broom.

A scream ripped her throat as she fell from the air.

Grabbing for her wand, she wordlessly cast a cushioning charm as she hurtled towards the ground. Three seconds later she felt other spells cast on her: another cushioning charm that felt familiar and a shielding spell that tingled her entire body.

With a soft bounce she landed on the ground and immediately cast an _Accio_ charm to retrieve the Firebolt before it shattered in the crash.

"Hermione, are you okay?"

She turned to see Ron running up to her. Behind him were Blaise and another Slytherin boy a few years their junior.

"Yeah, thanks Ron. Was that your cushioning charm?" she asked. He nodded with a concerned look.

"What were you doing?" he asked.

"Just practicing flying. I wanted a bit of practice before I left school," she said in a small voice. Her eyes kept darting over to Blaise, who stood next to the other boy, shooting her glances throughout his conversation.

"What are you doing here with Blaise?" she asked before she could stop herself.

Ron's face erupted into the biggest grin she'd ever seen on the annoying prat. "Oh, just a bit of flying, Hermione. Why do you ask?"

"Listen, Ron. Just because you're having a crisis of sexual orientation doesn't mean he plays on your team," she said through gritted teeth.

"Why Hermione, whatever do you mean?" Ron said in a haughty tone. It immediately irked her.

"Fine. Play your little games. We'll just see who wins the prize in this fight."

Ron's face went stony serious. "Deal, Hermione. Let the best person win. I won't play fair and I won't play nice."

"I consider myself duly warned," she said with a huff, then turned her back on Ron and walked towards Blaise.

"Hello, Zabini. Thanks for the spell," she said.

He shrugged. And then he smiled.

Everything focused on that smile. The world went dim; Ron's petty squabble meant nothing and she could only smile back.

"No problem, Hermione."

Her heart skip a beat or two. "Well, I'll see you in class," she said.

He nodded at her and she continued to stand there and look at him, soaking up his glory. When she noticed the other boy staring at her, she was alarmed to realize that she'd totally lost track of exactly how long she'd been standing there and quickly walked away. Before she got too far, she turned around to look at Blaise one more time and saw he was watching her. She waved and he lifted his hand in farewell.

She practically skipped all the way back to the castle.

* * *

Plan #4 – Sell it with Sex 

Honestly, what was Ron thinking? Blaise wouldn't be interested in another boy. He'd never displayed any homosexual tendencies. She'd never seen him even remotely flirty with another guy.

But then, he certainly seemed interested in Ron's quill sucking prowess.

Hermione slammed her hand into the desk in frustration. He definitely deserved a patented Hermione curse, one that shrank his balls and gave him boils on his tender bits. As if! He couldn't move in on her man. She would prove that Blaise was interested in women, not men.

Putting quill to parchment she began to plan out her final strategy to win over Blaise once and for all. She would do it with sex.

It was a known fact that men liked tits and curves and tight clothing. Hermione wasn't a total hottie, but she did have some pleasant endowments. And, though she wouldn't admit it to anyone, even under _Cruciatus_, she did know a few enhancement charms that would come in quite handy.

Their last Hogsmeade weekend of the year was that weekend and she had to make her move or she might miss her opportunity. She was off to work for the Ministry after graduation and she'd no idea where Blaise was going. School was ending; they would all go their separate ways. She refused to lose him without a fight.

It took her hours to prepare, primping even longer than she had for the Yule Ball their fourth year. But when she was done, she definitely looked shaggable.

Her hair was done back in a sleek style; she'd pulled it away from her face and let it hang down her shoulders. Highlights of reds and blondes gave it depth and life. A bit of a padding spell rounded out her breasts and a tricky illusion charm flattened her belly. She'd owl-ordered some clothing from a London Muggle-Wizarding clothing store, and she was now dressed in a pair of tight designer jeans, a fitted button down shirt with a classy over-cloak that made her look taller than she really was.

She knew Harry and Ginny were off somewhere snogging or shagging or doing whatever it was they did whenever they were together—which was always. Ron, on the other hand…

The mudslick she'd created in the entranceway right after Ron had walked through hadn't received him a detention from Filch. She wasn't sure exactly how he got out of that one. And McGonagall hadn't given him detention for not handing in his homework. It took a lot of effort to charm it blank for the past week; maybe McGonagall knew a countercharm. She knew she should have conjured up some tickets to a Canons game, but she didn't think the Canons were actually playing and Ron probably knew that.

Damn that little twit.

She stood outside of Honeyduke's staring at the display of graduation lollies and edible rattles and buzzers. It was a sunny day and she had to lean close to the window to see through the bright reflection on the glass. When she stood back up she gasped at her reflection with a man standing behind her.

His expression was soft, his usual knowing smirk missing from his features.

Hermione's heart stopped beating and she stared at Blaise reflected in the window. A breeze fluttered through the street behind her and she heard children playing a few blocks over, but neither of them moved.

Finally, a smile blossomed over Blaise's face and it was beautiful. Hermione's sense of her surroundings vanished as she turned from the window and stood before him. His eyes trailed her up and down, slowly, measuring her with his gaze and she shivered under his scrutiny.

"You look nice," he said once his eyes returned to her own.

"Thank you," she said, her voice unsteady but full of pleasure nonetheless.

"Would you like to get a drink at the Three Broomsticks?" he asked her and she nearly entered cardiac arrest, but luckily she'd grown used to heart failure around Blaise.

Eagerly, she nodded and grabbed for his offered arm. Here she was, Hermione Granger, walking through the streets of Hogsmeade on Blaise Zabini's arm. As they walked down the street all eyes seemed to be drawn to them. Some faces were full of shock, others smiled at them, and a few people even scowled. She ignored those.

This was her day, she'd won. She'd gotten her prize!

They entered the Three Broomsticks—Blaise opened the door for her—and she sat at a table to the back. He was up at the bar getting them drinks and Hermione waited nervously. What was she going to do now? She had to think of something to keep his attention.

By the time he returned, she'd composed a list of topics to discuss, but as he sat down before her, brilliant and gorgeous and _smiling at her_, her mind blanked once again.

"I just wanted to say," he started and she felt relief that he'd begun the conversation. "That… I've noticed you lately." Ha! Her plan worked! "And I'd like to get to know you, maybe see you when we're done with school?" His almost shy inquiry seemed to instill her with enough confidence to speak.

"I would love that, Blaise," she smiled as she said his name. "What are your plans after school?" she asked.

"Oh," he said with surprise and his usual amused quirk returned to his smile. "I'm going to be working as a financial manager for my mother," he said, revealing dimples . "You might not know this, but my mother's inherited quite a bit of money from her ex-husbands."

Hermione did know this through Slughorn, but opted to play dumb instead to keep him talking. She could listen to his voice all day. "Oh really, I didn't…"

"Oi, hello there."

Hermione hadn't even noticed Ron enter the pub and she frowned at his presence at their table.

"Ron, hello," said Blaise. Hermione just glared at him.

"Can I join you?" Ron asked Blaise, who'd turned in his seat at Ron's greeting. Before either of them could say anything, Ron sat down to Hermione's left. Blaise's grin brightened as he looked from Ron to her.

For once, Ron consumed all of her attention. She glared at Ron, who glared back. She looked beautiful, hot enough to push over the table and ravage right there, but when she finally looked back over at her prey, Blaise continued to move his gaze from one to the other, roving over them, _tasting_ them.

Sudden understanding hit her like a charging hippogriff.

Damn it. He wanted them both. Why were the Fates so cruel?

* * *

Her eyes were gummy from all the make-up and her hair smelled like product. Cleaning charms just didn't work the same as a real shower and she'd been too depressed to bathe that evening. She sat alone at breakfast, refusing to even look for Ron or Blaise, and dumbly ate her eggs. 

After five bites she gave up on the tasteless meal and grabbed for a piece of toast as the owls came in. One tawny school owl swooped down and landed on the table before her, one foot squashing her eggs, the other presenting a rolled-up paper.

Hermione took the paper and gave the owl a bit of her bread before it flew away. She hadn't been expecting a letter from anyone.

The message was short, but in just a few words Hermione went from surly and depressed to ecstatic and frighteningly eager.

_Hermione, I'd like to talk to you. Please meet me in the Room of Requirement tonight at eleven. – Blaise_

* * *

I remember getting my own note, delivered by House-elf. I thought I'd finally won. Finally. I mean, I never win anything. It was always you and Harry in the limelight and I was just a sidekick. But something bothered me about the entire thing… I mean, I watched as Blaise totally undressed you with his eyes. He was obviously interested in you. How had I won? By being there more than you were? 

Oh, you were very annoying with that whole hanging on thing.

Well, can you blame me?

No. _**sniff **_Anyway, I got the letter and just knew I'd won him, fair and square. I'd never even assumed! But it wasn't exactly as clear-cut as I had hoped.

* * *

Deciding that at this juncture it was best that she be more herself, Hermione wore normal jeans and a blouse with her hair styled, but not gummed up. A little blush and lip gloss were the finishing touches as she practically jogged to the Room of Requirement. 

When she arrived she was met with a nasty surprise.

"Ron?" she asked incredulously.

"Damn, I was afraid of this," Ron said with an exasperated sigh.

"I thought when I got the owl…"

"Hermione, that man is hot and I'll find far more uses for him than you ever will, so just give it up."

"No."

"Fine. May the best person win then," Ron said with a glint in his eye.

"Ronald Weasley, what do you have planned?" she asked, a bit worried.

"Me? Nothing. Shall we?" he said as he reached for the door. With a little trepidation, she followed him in.

Dim lighting shadowed the room as they entered. Hermione stared over at Ron and harrumphed, annoyed that he'd gotten an invitation as well. What kind of a game was Blaise playing?

With a calculating eye, she took in the details of the room. A full length, stand alone mirror sat in each corner, reflecting the flicker of a candle positioned before each one. Soft rugs were thrown about with pillows piled haphazardly. In the center of the room was a large, leather sofa and gracefully draped across the length of it was Blaise.

The sight of him was awe inspiring, all long and lanky like a panther, his dark skin glistening in the flickering light as he ran his finger across his bare chest.

That chest.

Hermione swallowed against a newly formed lump in her throat. Ron groaned deep in the back of his.

"Well, I must say I'm quite pleased you both decided to accept my invitation and come here tonight," Blaise said, his voice low, purring in amusement, his slanted eyes half closed. Shivers ran up and down Hermione's spine.

* * *

He looked at me. I mean _looked_ at me and I rendered up myself to those smoldering eyes of possession. I knew that being held by him once, being taken by him once, would change me forever, straight to the core of everything that I'd defined about myself. 

So it was simple, I would play whatever game he was up to. And I would win.

Hermione, you're a terrible seductress.

That's not true, I'm an excellent seductress, you've just got no sense of the romantic. And I _had_ you, didn't I? _**laugh** _

I was naïve and innocent.

And horny.

Yeah, well that, too.

* * *

"Thank you both for joining me. I must say, I'm a bit shocked you both came. I didn't know you Gryffindors were into sharing," Blaise said in an off-handed way. 

Hermione's jaw dropped open. "Sharing?" she asked.

Blaise smiled—no smirked—and it was predatory and confident. Gone was the shy demeanor he'd been showing her and the self-assured man she'd known during the war had taken his place.

"Yes. Sharing. It seems that I've grown a bit attached to each of you. I want you both."

"Well, you can't have us both. We aren't into sharing!" Hermione yelled at him. Ron grunted his assent.

"No?" said Blaise, disappointment lacing his words as he brushed his fingers against he hair around his navel. Hermione couldn't take her eyes off that patch of hair. "Well then, I guess if I only get one, I want the best one."

"That would be me!" Ron butted in.

"Ron…" Hermione began, but was interrupted by Blaise's dry chuckle.

"I'm so sorry, my sweet Gryffindors, but I cannot just take your word as truth. I need actual, hard, physical proof." He said these last words in such a low, smooth tone that Hermione's panties were instantly wet and Ron's low groan rumbled in his chest.

"What do you propose?" Hermione asked once she found her voice again.

"I propose that since I cannot have you both, each of you needs to demonstrate how sexy you can truly be, how much you deserve me. I think… hmm… I think a strip tease is the right approach here," he said quietly. "I'm expecting subtlety and seduction. I want your physical persuasion to drive me to want to throw you down on this rug, lick every inch of you from toe to nose and touch you in places you'd never felt aching pleasure from before. Convince me that you deserve that."

Hermione and Ron stood shocked and silent.

"What?" Hermione squawked once she'd gathered her senses. "You want us to strip for you? Right here?" She glanced over at Ron, whose face had begun to match his hair, though he definitely looked interested.

"Yes. I think I do," Blaise said, nodding to himself. He pushed himself up from his reclined position and sat back on the couch, gripping one thigh to his chest and letting the other dangle down to the floor. "Well…" he drawled, "I'm waiting."

She glanced nervously over at Ron, who returned her own look with a 'Hmm, well let's get this over with' glance that she easily interpreted. Blaise hadn't left her many options. Strip in front of him and Ron—well Ron'd already seen her naked, so that wasn't a big deal—or potentially miss this chance with him.

Fine, she would do it.

With her resolve strengthening her nerves, she nodded once to Ron, stared down at her shoes as she toed them off, and then turned to face Blaise.

Her mouth suddenly went dry and her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. With shaking hands she fumbled with the top button of her blouse. She knew her face was lit as bright as the sun and Blaise would be able to see her blush even in this dim light. Her eyes were cast down, examining the plush carpet, brain suddenly blank as her fingers forgot exactly how to manipulate a button.

Finally, the first one popped open, not due to any finesse or skill, but out of sheer luck, and she heard a soft sigh. Her head popped up, eyes opened wide with wonder and not a little embarrassment as they landed on Blaise.

His usually half-closed eyes were opened wide as he leaned forward, bracing himself with his elbows on his knees. His gaze latched onto her; his erection evident in his cotton pants. Curiously, she looked down at herself and saw a sliver of her milky skin peaking through the V of her shirt. It wasn't brazen. It wasn't anything improper or unmentionable. It was just skin.

She looked back up at Blaise and that hungry, eager look that waited for the next tantalizing sliver of skin to be provided just for him, and she grinned.

She could do this.

Over to her side, she could hear ruffling and she glanced over to see Ron taking off his cloak. Fine, if he wanted this challenge, she would give him a challenge! She would do the most seductive strip tease ever known to witchkind, damn it!

Returning her gaze to Blaise, she dropped her hands to her next button.

With a quick flick of her fingers it popped, presenting cleavage she normally kept hidden away. With agonizing slowness she moved to the next button and undid that, studying Blaise as he watched her. The following buttons were the next casualties of her performance, each popped with ease and precision. One button left and Blaise's eyes were practically frozen in their sockets as if her body was the most interesting subject on the planet, never straying as inch after inch of pale skin was exposed. She paused her progress and ghosted her hands up to her neck, fluttering her fingers along her skin, feeling her hard pulse beating through her veins. Her skin was so hot, it almost burned.

Finally, she released the last button.

Casually, she dropped the blouse to the floor, never taking her eyes off her target. She watched him as his eyes darted from her to Ron, reveling whenever those eyes lingered on her longer than her nemesis.

She glided her fingers over the lightly fuzzed skin of her stomach and trailed them up along her sides, then snaked them behind her to the clasp of her bra. She held his eyes, held them like a vice as she undid the clasp and slowly pulled the bra from her shoulders, one strap at a time, and let the garment fall to the floor.

Her nipples became ridiculously hard as Blaise devoured her breasts with his hungry eyes.

She heard a groan to her side and she looked over. Ron, Mr. "I'm Gay," was watching her as well, his own shirt lying in a pile on the floor, his chest heaving with heavy breaths. With a smirk she returned her attention to the man on the couch, now leaning back with one hand dipping into his pants.

Her breath grew shallow as she watched him gently rub himself, his head slightly tilted back as he watched them through lidded eyes.

"Don't stop now," he said in a breathy voice. "It's so good."

He liked it! He was totally getting off on watching her strip for him, tease him with her body. The power she felt engorged her confidence and she realized how much she was enjoying this as well. He was putty in her hands. He was hot and bothered and _masturbating_ in front of her because of what she was doing right now.

Well, maybe Ron was helping a little, but she didn't dwell on that.

The last and final button to fall prey to her ploy was on her jeans. The button went quickly, but the zipper… with slow, agonizingly slow progress, she undid the zip, tooth by tooth, exposing the silky red of her knickers.

Lacing her finger through each side of her jeans, she shuffled them down, shimmying her hips, rocking them from side to side, as she did so. Her jeans traveled the distance down her hips past her arse, then dropped loosely around her ankles. She gracefully lifted her feet, stepping out of them.

A quick glance let her know that Ron was already in his underwear and was quickly discarding those.

Well, let him be quick. She was going to do this with style.

Feigning a relaxed attitude, she turned around, presenting her backside to Blaise's scrutiny. At a measured pace she did the same with her panties that she did with her jeans, hooking her fingers into the waist band and slowly slipping them down, past her butt, down her legs, bending over as she did so to give him a gracious view of everything she was offering.

She burned in embarrassment as she did it, but there was something else there, something exciting that she'd never felt before. She liked those eyes on her, she enjoyed performing for him. It was heady, this power.

Slowly, she arched her back and rolled her spine up straight. Turning around she grabbed for her wand and conjured a small splash of water to jet into the air and trickle down upon her, wetting her hair and skin. She threw her head back, languishing in the sensation of the wetness. The water gleamed along the tip of her nose and the line of her collarbone, trickling a trail down her torso to gather and drip off her pebbled nipples, hard with anticipation of Blaise's hands on her body.

A moan reached her ears and she smiled to herself. She brought her hand up and pinched one nipple, head still back, body open and inviting.

"Merlin," Blaise said, panting like he'd just run a mile. "You are both such gorgeous temptations."

Hermione looked up and over at Ron, who turned his hungry gaze on her then returned his attention back to their prize. Blaise's legs were laid open, the head of his dark prick poking up over the edge of his pants, the pace of his hand speeding up as he watched them, eyeing them like he thirsted for their taste and would starve without it.

He threw his head back and shuddered silently as his orgasm overwhelmed him. Hermione's own desire to thrust her hands between her legs almost overrode her sense of propriety. Blaise's hips jerked as he pushed himself into his hand again and again. She watched as thing strings of come jetted across his belly. Moaning next to her drew her attention away from Blaise's awesome display to see that Ron had grabbed his own cock, right there in front of her.

She stood and watched as the men burnt themselves out, thrusting and moaning, finally crumbling into heaps.

That was frustrating.

"Boys," she said after they were both revived. "I don't plan on fingering myself in front of you. Not just yet. So, please come here and do something about my predicament." She stood there, legs slightly splayed with her hands resting gently on her thighs. She was wet and hot and eager to be touched by anyone but herself.

Blaise chuckled and even Ron grinned at her.

"So, shall we review my proposal again," he asked in a sated voice. "I want you both. Let me have you both," he purred.

Ron looked at her. He wasn't so bad… he did have a wicked tongue. She shrugged. Ron shrugged back and offered a quick, shallow nod angled towards Blaise.

"Fine. You have us both. We'll share. But I get to be in the middle," she said as she walked bold and naked over to the couch, with Blaise spent and relaxed waiting for them. Ron followed her.

"Now someone… take care of me," she said, surprised at her own boldness as she settled onto the couch next to Blaise.

"Yes, my dear," Blaise said. "Your wish is our command."

She smirked as he trailed his hand over her breasts, down across her belly to that moist spot between her legs. Sure, Blaise had won, but didn't his victory mean a victory for them all? He'd planned this all along, she realized as he began to rub the tip of his finger across her clitoris. Oh well, he was a Slytherin, he was bound to use dirty, underhanded tricks to get his way.

And she realized, as Ron began nibbling on her neck, that she didn't mind at all.


End file.
